Restoration

This week I have been back at work. I have been out for just over 4 weeks, and it felt very odd going back up to London. The journey was ok though, I listened to the excellent Chris and Thomas on my iPhone on the way up, and slept, and looked out of the window and played solitaire.

I started walking from Waterloo, but by the time I got to Westminster I had lost my enthusiasm and hopped on the Tube the rest of the way.

In the time I've been away, we have moved back down to the first floor (Second Floor, American readers...the one up the stairs from the Ground floor. There's a clue in the name.) The new accommodation is cramped, noisy, hot and lacking in storage space. Just like the place I left last year then. Fan-tas-tic.

Everyone hates it, there is nowhere to put anything (paperless office my arse) and the coffee machine is nowhere to be found.

I don't actually drink coffee very much but it is still distressing to see colleagues wandering around the floorplate forlornly, mugs in hand, whimpering sadly as they go through caffeine withdrawal.

On my boss' advice I phoned up the departmental counsellor, who kindly agreed to see me that afternoon. That was tough. She was very kind though, and helpful, and gave me leaflets on Coping With Shite* and I am going back to see her next week. If it helps, I'm all for it.

I fell asleep on the train and slept all the way home, waking up in a panic in Salisbury wondering if I'd missed my stop and was halfway to Exeter.

I have worked at home today and yesterday and am back into London tomorrow. Work have been marvellous, but my God they must be tired of me by now. I feel like every week has provided a new, freakishly horrible, drama to disrupt life and add to the huge hot bale of stress I am now carrying around on the back of my neck. Which is nice.

Other news: The cleaning team came on Friday and did a good job. They were apologising as they left that they hadn't got round to doing the ironing, but to be fair they had slaved over the vile filth in the kitchen and bathroom, both of which were left spotless.

One of them said to me "Once we get on top of the place we'll have time to do some extra jobs." This got me thinking of stuff to ask them to do**. Excellent. I have come up with a few ideas, but more would be nice. Suggestions welcomed, obviously.

In fact, I felt so guilty at the thought of them having to tackle the appalling mountain of WithaY ironing that I spent an hour and a half yesterday evening doing a load of it, whilst watching reruns of "How Clean Is Your House". Some people really do live like pigs.

There was a couple who were repeatedly described as "former London high-fliers" who now run a farm in Kent. They both looked like leftover hippies, and their house was ankle deep in shit. Literally. The floors (and they were carpeted floors at that) were encrusted with mud, hair and dung. Lovely. Even their bedroom floor. And these were allegedly intelligent people. Fuckwits.

I was outraged, which is a good state of mind to be ironing in.

The weather today has taken a turn for the Apocalyptic. High winds, driving rain and the constant sound of squealing tyres and blaring car horns all combine for a relaxing background ambiance as I try to read the 450 emails in my work inbox.

Ah well. Could be worse. And when it is, I will let you know.


*I think. I'd need to look at it again to confirm the title

**Top of the list is repainting the dog shed, followed by chopping kindling, then clearing out the garage. I'm not sure our contract covers that, I'll need to check.

Mock The Leek

Ah the joys of not sleeping. So, rather than going and doing something useful like...oh, I don't know...the ironing maybe, I am posting photos of Mystery Vegetables for you to identify for me.

We could have a competition maybe?

Name That Green. Now That's What I Call Greenery. Green Or No Green. I have a great format in my head, if only I could come up with a great title.

I might need to call the BBC with my ideas tomorrow.

Anyhoo. Picture 1, an arty leaf shot:



Picture 2, displaying the rhubarb-like stems:



Picture 3. Admire the mighty WithaY vegetable patch! Look upon our works of cultivation and despair, humanity!



The basil's still not dead, which I think is rather impressive.

Also, due to popular demand* I am posting up the photos of the Huge Fire we witnessed the other week.

Scene 1 was taken from inside the coffee shop, Scene 2 was taken from the steps outside the coffee shop. I was all set to run much closer and take Scene 3, but then my brain managed to finally make itself heard and stopped me from endangering my life.





Other news: I am waiting expectantly for our new cleaning team to turn up. I have tidied up specially. When the lady from the agency came round to assess the house the other week, she said "Oh good - they like having to do houses with a bit of dust!"

I was mortified.

Also, am officially back at work today, although I suspect that the work will mostly consist of reassembling my laptop and trying to get back onto the work intranet and email system. I am going up to London on Monday which will be a bit of a big step, but hopefully it will be ok.

Aha. Domestic assistance has arrived. Marvellous. I'll go and put the kettle on.


Bah. Just noticed that this post has the time I started it at the bottom, ie late last night, rather than the time I actully posted it, ie at about 0900 today. If I were more technically competent (and could be arsed) I'd amend it, but sadly I will have to pretend I meant to do it this way.

Yes, I am a time traveller. I hope you're impressed.


*Youngest Sis was grumbling that she hadn't seen them.